White & Red
by Shihaisha
Summary: He turned away from her then and she knew that he would not bargain further. The deal was as is or not at all. "Wait," she called, "I agree to your bargain." He came about with a knowing smile. "Sublime."
1. White & Red

**AN**: I very much enjoy writing poetry especially when rhyming and as this is a fairytale or rather a big smorgasbord of fairytales, it's only proper to start it off with a poem. There are 3 major ones that precede the 3 parts of this story. I suppose you could skip them if you really wanted but then again, you might just be short changing yourself in the process. They do tell you a part of the back story and as you find out things, you might just be like "oh, oh, that line in the poem" or that could just be me (it wouldn't be the first time). ^^;

* * *

White and Red

From earth were bred

Of such brilliance they

That none could but say

T'was enchantment certainly

A desperate plea

Uttered hence

A dark happenstance

A widow barren

Now held twice the carrion

Ne'er to be alone

Kin warmed hearth and home

Denied once twice thrice

Bargain and price

She greedily took destiny

Guarding her enmity

For she had

White and Red

From earth whom were bred

Her enemy soon to be dead


	2. Chapter 1: Once

**AN**: So, this was born because well, I fell in love with Rumpelstiltskin, have been battling the urge to write something for Alice in Wonderland (there's so much potential here and they barely tapped into it), and my own rendition of Snow White & Rose Red (which is my favorite fairytale). Simply a match made in heaven, well, for me anyway and maybe for you as well? That's how it started but, I've added so much more. ^_^

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did while writing and as always, if you have any questions/comments feel free to leave a review and I will respond. :D

* * *

**Once**

**I**

**A** **widow sat hunched**, gnarled hands clasped tightly in her lap. The sun had long since departed giving way to night. Blackness and bitter cold reigned  
supreme. The wind; a howling menace ripped at the thatched roof of her cottage. The guttural sounds filling the silence. It could almost be described as unnatural and yet she sat unmoving. She was waiting and not even the dying embers of the fire could entice her. It didn't matter. None of it did. Once it had, but not anymore. There was only one thing that held her heart now and she would see its existence whatever the cost. This was her best chance. That is, if rumors were to be believed. She was beginning to doubt, her wait being of some duration. The woodsman was either a boob or a liar, both being on equal footing in her mind. When next he came she would fix him a proper remedy.

"The fool," she spat giving up her seat.

"Foolery, you say. To who is it truer, the fool or the follower of the fool? Hm, I wonder."

The widow spun about, and by minuscule firelight could just make out a shadowy form upon her roughhewn stool.

"What manner of folk are you?" she began with a flicker of trepidation. "That you cross my threshold with not the least bit of stirring?"

"The magical kind," answered the intruder without hesitation.

"Magic!" she cried, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "Then it was true! You are him! The one the woodsman told me about."

"Of course I am!" he snapped. "Who else would I be? I was sent for and here I am. What is it that you want?"

"Children," said she, a hint of a smile pulling at her weathered lips.

"But of course," he began suddenly clapping his hands together. "A widow barren and all…"

This last part was said with a wave of his fingers before he sprang from his seat.

"They're all the craze, you know. This one is lost, that one is dead, now it is time to lose heart and head, or maybe, it was riches instead." Here he cackled before giving the widow a leer.

"But you, dearie, are none of those. There is something…darker about you. What is it that you truly seek?"

"Revenge."

Coincidentally the fire died at this one utterance leaving the speakers in complete darkness.

"But from you," she continued, "I only look for the means to such. Children, two daughters, but not the normal kind they must be something more; enchantments that will fell men."

"Ah, and for this you will give…what exactly?"

"A satchel of dwarf's beard."

"Ooh, a curious thing to be in the possession of one such as you. However did you come by it?"

"The forest has a bountiful supply of many things," was her reply.

"Indeed it does."

There was a shift, a variation in the shades of darkness before a single golden seed appeared above his left hand. Its glow cast about illuminating where once the fire had.

"An acceptable bargain for one, but for two…" A mimicking flourish with the right and a second seed came into being. "It is not."

"What would you have then?" Her voice was hard, determined.

He dropped his hands and the seeds vanished once again shrouding them in black. There was nothing but silence. Even the wailing winds seemed to have receded, the better to not disturb his dealings.

"I will take the dwarf's beard."

Startled, the widow held back a cry as a face materialized before her own. How she was able to see it in the murk about her, she did not know.

"And you will owe me three favors for the other."

"Three? That is a steep price."

"Is it? You cannot get something for nothing and with magic there is always a hefty price. Do you want your vengeance or not?"

"Oh, I will have it," she declared.

He laughed at her tenacity.

"I like your spirit. Tell you what; I will alter the deal slightly. Three favors done or if one of the two should ever call my name, she, I will take as payment."

"That hardly seems the better for me," she accused.

"A sprinkle of fate for fun, that is all."

"I don't even know your name. The woodsman would not speak it, though I daresay he knew it."

"Well than, the odds seem to be stacked with you and three little favors aren't all that much, especially for what you ask."

"There are others, you know. I need not deal with just you."

At this he frowned. "Then court failure, if that is what you desire."

He turned away from her then and she knew that he would not bargain further. The deal was as is or not at all. Too long had she waited and she could not afford her plans to fall to ruin. She had made an oath, whatever the cost, and now it was time to see it done. They were after all only a means to an end and she cared not if one was taken. She would just need to be sure that she had her revenge before that happened, if it did at all.

"Wait," she called, "I agree to your bargain."

He came about with a knowing smile.

"Sublime."

* * *

Today seemed promising in Storybrooke, Maine. The brooding clouds that previously dominated the horizon had broken. Touches of blue hinted at something brighter, slightly warmer, and albeit dryer. The storm had finally blown over. This was to be a happy morning, or so thought a certain blonde as she approached Granny's Diner. However, things were always subject to change and if the gathering of onlookers outside Granny's was anything to go by, it had. A man of considerable height was obviously at the head of the commotion. Emma had seen him once or twice, he was Gold's man.

"What's going on?" she asked stopping beside, who Henry insisted was Snow White, but was more commonly known as Mary Margaret Blanchard.

"I'm not sure, I just arrived myself…is that Faye?"

"Who?"

Mary Margaret cast a sidelong glance at her friend. "Faye Briar. She has a shop in town, but she's been gone, for quite a while."

"Gone? Gone where?" The thought that no one could supposedly leave Storybrooke flitted to the forefront as Emma asked the question. Followed closely by how ridiculous that sounded and she hoped that Mary would say Boston. No such luck.

"The forest. She never can stand to be in town for long because of the Alcott's. Coffee?" popped Ruby.

Emma and Mary Margaret jumped slightly at the sudden interruption.

"Hey Ruby, thanks," Emma replied taking the proffered cup. "Wait, the Alcott's?"

"Long story," Mary began, doing the same, "Ruby, what happened to Faye?"

"That, I can't tell you. She had just started to make her way to the door when Lackey of the Year showed up."

The trio's attention was irrevocably drawn to the topic in discussion as she thrust a slender finger at the intimidating man.

"_I_ deal with Gold and only Gold. So, be a good courier and fly back to your master."

"Spunky, isn't she." Emma took a sip of her coffee.

"You could say that," Mary offered with a worried expression.

"Ooh, mayor at 12 o'clock, gotta go." That being said, Ruby began to slip her way through the crowd and back to the diner.

"What exactly, is going on here?" the mayor questioned shoving her way through, all the while scanning over those amassed. "Ms. Briar…?"

In something akin to shock, Regina examined the disheveled woman. She was mud and grime speckled; vibrant red curls plastered against her head, and where skin was visible there were several abrasions. A considerable gash ran over her right eyebrow and she wondered if the girl realized she was bleeding.

"What on earth has happened to you?"

Faye looked from her current source of annoyance to someone who was only marginally better. Originally, she had planned on taking the path of discretion, fixing herself up at Granny's, and then mingling with the locals. Mr. Gold, however, had spoiled that. Instead she was the prettiest package the town gossip had ever seen.

"A small accident; it looks worse than it is."

"You," Regina gave her a pointed look before continuing, "had an accident?"

Faye felt like a deer caught in headlights and Regina was not the only one who stared at her in disbelief. It was almost too much to take at the moment. She was filthy, cold, tired, hungry and injured; the last thing she wanted was…well, this whole debacle. She had had plenty of that back in the woods.

"Yes, an accident," Faye gritted out slowly. Now, all she needed was Sydney to snap a picture for the town's annals.

_A small accident, indeed_. Regina's expression soured ever so slightly. Things were occurring in Storybrooke that never had in all their long history; the clock, Graham, and now this, to name a few. It was obvious that Ms. Briar was withholding something and that, was simply unacceptable.

"And this?" She gestured with an arched brow and open hand to "the dove" who had not said a word since her entrance into the fray.

"A misunderstanding."

"Of course." Regina gave an affected smile. "Well, I suggest that, this…_misunderstanding_ should return to his employer, and the rest of you to be on your way."

The consequences of not doing so were left unspoken, and that seemed to be all the prodding that was necessary.

"Mr. Gold will be informed." The man clearly enjoyed throwing that name about and watching the peons scurry under its weight. Not for the first time, Faye wondered if the dove's indentured service was of his own doing.

"You do that." She was not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cower in fear. That show, if played, had an audience of one and one only. People hurried out of the dove's way in a sheepish manner and the mass exodus began. Faye was regarded with conspiratorial whispers and looks. The townsfolk headed toward their previous destinations, no doubt planning to keep a wide berth of her and her coming repercussions. If the horrible feeling in her gut was anything to go by, then they were right in doing so. Except that Mr. Gold didn't take the cake for the thing that worried her most. He wasn't far down the list, mind you, and for good reason. Only a fool would assume he was, and Faye liked to think she was no fool.

"Sheriff Swan."

Emma shared a short look with Mary Margaret. "I'll see you later."

"Right." Mary looked as though she wanted to say more, but settled with a thoughtful smile for the three remaining individuals. She headed into Granny's as had a few others. It was the perfect place to safely "spy" unawares.

"What can I do for you, mayor?" Emma began the customary pleasantries, sipping at her coffee and giving the two women her undivided attention.

"I want you to take Ms. Briar to the hospital."

"What?" This burst out of Faye. The red-head's lips pressed into a thin line and Emma had the impression that she was slowly counting to ten.

"No. I'm perfectly capable on my own," she added in a much more controlled tone.

"That is precisely why Sheriff Swan will be taking you."

This was said as if it was the most logical thing in the world, but it didn't make a lick of sense, unless of course you were Regina Mills, Mayor of Storybrooke. The woman had to have a meddling hand in everything, a foot in every door. Always interfering, because someday it would turn to her benefit, give her the edge she needed—or more accurately, enjoyed—the dirt she could sprinkle onto the unsuspecting and bring them to their knees. Faye resented the intrusion.

"Last I checked I can clean cuts and superglue. That's all the good doctor is going to do, and frankly, my way is cheaper."

"That's assuming there's nothing more serious to treat." Regina put particular emphasis on that last word. Her eyes roved over Faye's person as if she could discern all her secrets with a single look and detect every injury. She knew. That is what that look conveyed and it made Faye feel sick to her stomach. The woman was like poison, slowly spreading until she had your life in her hands. In reality, she didn't know, not yet, but that was the beauty of the lie. She made you believe until you told her exactly what she wanted to know. It was manipulation at its best.

Faye said not a word, but her silence spoke volumes. The pallor of her skin was concerning and Emma was impressed that she was still standing, let alone going toe to toe with Regina in such a state. It was an act of sheer stubborn will and an admirable one at that. However, (Emma would take this to her grave) Regina was right, in this instance. Though she was sure her motives were anything but pure, if that smug smile was any indication. Emma watched the silent stare down and was about to intervene when she was beat to the punch.

"Excuse me, Madam Mayor," a mousy woman interrupted. She was slight of frame and despite her clothes being rather small; they still hung obnoxiously on her bones. Her hair was severely pinned back in a bun but wisps of it defied the constraint to fly away at her temples. One of her knee-highs was bunched around her ankle, which brought attention to her scuffed black pumps. They were meant to give her some height, but that was completely defeated by her hunched posture. In mismatched gloved hands she clasped an envelope.

Emma stared. It was a laughably absurd sight and she half wondered how the woman had managed to creep up on them. She had certainly never seen her before, and from Faye's expression, neither had she. Regina was a different story and for the briefest of moments she looked taken aback. She quickly recovered and all too soon that look of superiority was firmly in place.

"Yes." Regina gave the intruder a once over and frowned. "What is it?" she added impatiently.

The woman shifted on her feet, nervously pushed her glasses up her nose, and wrung her hands over the envelope before she realized what she was doing. Hastily, she held out her hands.

"For you," she answered.

Regina snatched the letter? She barely gave it a second glance before slipping it into the inside pocket of her jacket. If Henry had been present, he would surely have said it was proof of his fairytale delusions of grandeur. Thankfully, the kid was not, because Emma didn't know how she would have logically disproved him. The glimpse of scrawling black ink and a wax seal was strange. Surely, she had seen wrong, but if the puzzled look shared by Faye was anything to go by, she hadn't. Still, there was a logical explanation for everything and who knew; maybe it would be to her benefit. Maybe Regina was in a cult. Emma could not keep the smirk from her face at such a delicious thought.

"Do you need anything else?" Regina's sudden question snapped the attention back to her.

"No, madam." The woman took a couple steps backwards. "Best of days," she blurted spinning on her heels and nearly toppling. Quickly, she righted herself and shuffled down to the corner, where she turned and disappeared from sight.

To say that the goings on of the past few minutes was an unexpected occurrence was an understatement. Emma and Faye exchanged a look as Regina stared off in the direction that the mystery woman had gone. Each found themselves at a loss of words and completely derailed from their previous argument. The two women may have found themselves temporarily dumbstruck but Regina was most certainly not. She turned to find them just as they were and her eyebrows crumpled in irritation.

"Sheriff Swan, I thought I was explicit in my instructions."

"Actually, that was still being debated," Faye countered.

This got her an icy smile as the mayor took a step toward the obstinate woman.

"Ms. Briar." Regina crossed her arms and leaned forward. "My patience is growing thin. You will go with Ms. Swan, see Dr. Whale and be treated."

She said each word slowly with deliberate enunciation before her voice lowered dangerously. Loud enough for Faye's ears only.

"It would be extremely unfortunate if somehow certain undisclosed events became public knowledge."

The woman was a complete witch. Emma's suspicion heightened at the glower Faye leveled at the mayor. Regina straightened up.

"Am I quite clear?" This was spoken at her normal aggravating volume.

"Completely," Faye answered in a tone strained with politeness.

"Good." Regina stepped back with a victorious smile.

"And what about Mr. Gold?" interjected Emma. The fact that he had set his goon after the girl just as she had arrived did not bode well, and to be honest, Emma felt it was entirely necessary to remind Regina of the man who was not solidly under her thumb. Emma didn't know what had been said in six inch voice, but anything from Regina meant only one thing: bad.

"Oh, you needn't worry about him," Regina dismissed with a glare. "I will check on you later, Ms. Briar," she promised and then clicked herself into the diner.

"All the more reason to worry, if you ask me," Emma quipped.

With a pensive glance in the opposite direction, Faye retrieved her pack from the ground, but not without a poorly concealed grimace.

"This is what you call capable?" Emma took the pack. "You're pale as a ghost and I'd say you've got three seconds before you fall on your—"

"Cute. I can see why the mayor likes you so much." Faye gave the new sheriff a wry grin; curious as to how she had gotten the position in the first place, and what had happened with Graham to warrant such. It would be a story for later though, because the sheriff was right. Straightening stiffly, Faye pulled off a soiled glove and held out her hand. "I'm Faye."

With the pack shouldered and coffee in the opposite hand, Emma met her hand and smile with her own. "Emma."

* * *

In a secret grove, on the night of the full moon, the widow eagerly dug into the earth. It had been a month's time since she had procured the seeds safely hidden in her pouch. It was an agonizing wait, but crucial nonetheless. There had been other ingredients needed for the spell she would wrought. Two vials of water from the spring forgot by time. Two wild roses—one white, one red—from the shades forest. Last, something of herself. Of the woman she should be and the woman she was, she cast a single snowy gem into the first hole and a gold band in the second. Then alternating between the two she dropped: toe of gnome, adder's tongue, spit, three drops of blood, roses ground to powder—white now red—and one vial of water each.

There was a pop followed by a hiss and an eerie sheen of light emanated from both freshly made cavities. With quivering hands she opened the pouch and retrieved the golden seeds. Magic, old and strong, made her fingertips tingle. Pure delight coursed through her at what she was about to do, what she was about to accomplish. This sort of brew was not native to this land and there were few, even in her home, which possessed the knowledge for such an undertaking. The smell would carry on the wind for days.

With bated breath she placed a seed in each and quickly covered them with dirt. Hands still atop, clenched in the soil, she made her wish. A tremor bubbled up from the deep and knocked the widow back; its invisible force going out in a wave. Trees and brush shook. The earthen floor shuddered and something not too far off thundered to the ground, accenting the deed done. A cackle forced its way out of her and the widow pulled herself to her knees. As one would with the most precious of possessions she touched the land before her. Now she would tend to the gash in her side. The shades had not taken kindly to her trespass and were not likely to forget it either, but it mattered not.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

* * *

A bell jingled as the door to Mr. Gold's pawnshop was thrust open. A gust of chilled air followed in, currently, the lone occupant. A myriad of antiquities, some of them beyond curious, lined the walls and various display cases. There was always something to catch the eye, entice the senses, or leave you feeling ill-at-ease. Like those wooden dolls or were they puppets? Whatever they were, there was something about them that screamed: wrong.

"Sheriff Swan, how can I help you today?"

Emma tore her gaze from the grotesque wooden dolls and focused on the enigmatic Mr. Gold. How the man always silently appeared was a mystery. Especially considering the fact that he used a cane and still, she did not hear him approach. It ate away at her, but she let it go, her curiosity piqued by something else.

"Expecting someone?" she questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Always" he answered her with a toothless grin.

Emma regarded him in silence before crossing her arms.

"I ran into your man outside of Granny's this morning," she pointed out.

"Ah, I see," Mr. Gold leaned forward on his cane a bit before continuing. "You're here on Ms. Briar's behalf, I take it."

"You could say that," Emma admitted.

"Well I'm afraid, Sheriff, that I am not at liberty to discuss the details of my dealings with Ms. Briar."

"Why am I not surprised?" Emma muttered. "That's not why I'm here."

She watched as he went to a corner and pulled out an item she had yet to see before. It was similar to a glass cake stand, except for the base was intricately carved wood and it was taller; obviously meant for something other than a cake. Mr. Gold set it down on a display case.

"So, why are you here?" he prompted.

"Uh, Fay—Ms. Briar is in the hospital, I thought you should know." For some inexplicable reason Emma felt extremely awkward. The atmosphere in the shop grew tense, and she suddenly felt as though she had trespassed into unwelcome territory. As quickly as it arose, the feeling passed, and had Emma not seen Mr. Gold's hand hesitate in its cleaning for the barest of moments, she would have believed it her own imagination.

"Already friends, I see." Mr. Gold set down the rag he had been using. "That's very kind of you, Sheriff, but I don't see why that's any concern of mine."

"I hardly think one car ride constitutes friendship." Mr. Gold gave Emma a knowing look which irked her.

"If I didn't know better, Mr. Gold, I'd think that you wanted me to be Ms. Briar's friend," Emma accused.

"That's a bit uncharacteristic, dearie."

"Maybe, unless you somehow benefit from it," she pointed out.

The sly smile Emma was favored with now only reinforced the thought.

"Even I have my limits," he acknowledged.

"I'm sure you do, but I don't think this is one of them." She straightened up and took a step toward the door. "Anyway, you _should_ know because Regina is overly interested in the whole thing."

"Oh?" That seemed to grab his attention.

"And…" Emma paused for effect, her mouth twitching ever so slightly. "You…are nothing to worry about, or so she told Ms. Briar."

The smile never left Mr. Gold's face, but diminished some, like that of a person smiling for a portrait that was too long in the taking.

"Did she now…"

Emma did not relish the idea of doing Mr. Gold this favor, but it was the right thing to do. The game between him and the mayor was a longstanding, complicated one. An easy observation despite her short tenure in Storybrooke and she had stayed long enough to know that Faye would just end up being collateral damage. In good conscious, she could not let that happen.

"And what do you want in exchange for this tidbit of information?"

Emma frowned.

"I'm not like you, Gold, but if you want to repay me then give Ms. Briar a break. Something beat the crap out of her and she's as tightlipped about it as you are with your deals."

There was a pause as he considered the bargain.

"Agreed."

Emma eyed him suspiciously and he met the customary look with, what else, a smile. She rolled her eyes.

"It's always a pleasure, Sheriff Swan."

She gave him a half-hearted smile in return, as if to say, "I bet it is" and happily exited the teeming shop. For several minutes Mr. Gold merely stood there, a plotting look upon his face. Having come to a decision, he walked to the door and flipped the open sign to closed.


End file.
